Kiss My Eyes
by LadySaxophone
Summary: You expected to revel in your victory, to finally feel at peace with what happened.  You don't. Instead you reach down, pick up the battered lightsaber hilt, and remember.


_This is what I brought you, this you can keep  
>This is what I brought, you may forget me<br>I promise to depart, just promise one thing  
>Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep<em>

You have already watched this man die. In a firey inferno on a planet that devoured who you once were, you watched this man's face crack. There was no other way to describe it. The once proud visage of a Jedi Knight sagged with the weight of unspeakable sorrow and guilt as salty tears slid down the bearded cheeks.

The obvious pain won't excuse him though, because you suffered too. You burned alive, you lost all your limbs, and _she _died. You'll never see her again.

And it's his fault, this broken old man before you. He looks old, but you know he shouldn't be that old. The years have not been kind to him, but they have been worse to you. Hot white anger burns in your heart with that thought. You will win this. You will kill him for his crimes against Anakin Skywalker, and you will rejoice in this second death. You will celebrate as you were unable to during the first.

There's a clamor of noice near the hanger bay and you both turn to look. A young man is staring in horror at you and your enemy. That's when Kenobi brushes up against your mind and when you look back, he's standing with his 'saber in the salute form, completely defenseless. Without hesitating, you cut him down.

In the lower recesses of your mind and heart, the places where, as a Sith Lord, you never go, you feel an abstract grief. And as your saber flies through Kenobi's neck, that place cries out a denial along with the young man in the hanger.

His robes fall to the floor and the ever faithful lightsaber hilt smacks down on top of them. He is gone, as if he had never been there in the first place.

You step forward mechanically, and stomp on the robes, trying to convince yourself that there _is _a body. That your old Master cannot manipulate the Force like that. But your boots meet fabric and the durasteel floor and the next thing you know, you're walking away, leaving the relics behind.

You keep yourself busy. You ensure that the tracking device was successfully planted on the Millenium Falcon, you locate the rebel base. You check and re-check the coordinates. You notify Sidious.

But too soon you find yourself walking down the hallway toward the Docking Bay where the fated duel took place.

The last remnants of Obi Wan Kenobi are still lying there in a pool on the floor.

You expected to feel such elation at the moment of his death. You expected to feel bliss as you have not felt since before _she _died. You expected to revel in your victory, to finally feel at peace with what happened.

You don't.

Instead you reach down and pick up the battered lightsaber hilt, and you remember.

You remember a man with ever changing blue eyes and a warm but rare smile. You remember the lessons he patiently drummed into your head day after day. You remember your first thunderstorm, when a younger, more energetic version of Obi Wan fashioned a fort out of chairs and blankets. You remember how he brought you both steaming cups of hot tea and told stories to keep your fear away. You remember sneaking him a piece of the 'padawan's only' chocolate cake he so loved from the cafeteria in the Temple. You remember every single inside joke that ever passed between the two of you. You remember gentle praise coming in a dignified, quiet, but proud tone. You remember how he never knew just what to say, and didn't always get it right, but was still always _there_. You remember the bond you had with him, that alerted you to every single dangerous situation he found himself in. You remember him saving your life more than once. You remember that once, you would have given up your very life, given up time you could've spent with _her,_ if it had ensured that he would live.

And you remember his first death, how tears you'd never seen him shed flooded his eyes when he turned away from you. You remember an old warrior, standing alone in his last hour. And finally, you remember his Force signature brushing up against your mind, imparting to you his final thoughts. You remember how his last words were the same.

"You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you."

And you wonder, after all you've done, how those words can still ring true.

_This is what I thought, I thought you'd need me  
>This is what I thought, so think me naive<br>I'd promise you a heart, you'd promise to keep  
>Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep<em>

_-Prelude 12/21 A.F.I._

* * *

><p>AN: This was originally supposed to be Vader's POV, but it turned into an Anakin sobsap fest. Oh well. How was the second person writing style? I was experimenting...


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